FMA oneshots
by Leni
Summary: Mostly Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza. Rating is a blanket one, and mostly for language at that.
1. Change My World EdWin postmovies

_**DISCLAIMER:** Hiromu Arakawa, says wikipedia.  
**WORDCOUNT:** 1572  
**SUMMARY:** post-anime. post-'Conqueror of Shamballa' (with a complete denial about its ending). I wiki'd the movie, so I'm sorry if there are inconsistencies - but I mostly kept possible spoilers vague._ ((Ed didn't acknowledge her presence; but he didn't stand and walk away into further solitude either. As far as Winry was concerned, that was progress.))  
_**FEEDBACK:** Please?  
**DEDICATION:** Feliz cumpleaños a ti! Feliz cumpleaños a ti! Feliz cumpleaños, querida Sharon... y que los cumplas FELIZ! smooches **evillittledog** You said 'actions louder than words'; this is what came out._

**CHANGE MY WORLD  
**_by Leni_

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Winry closed the front door behind her with one hand, using the other to prop the tray against her midsection. Immediately, the light in the porch dimmed considerably, as well as the sound of animated voices coming from her living room – currently Havoc telling a story about his newest would-be-conquest – was drowned behind the wooden door.

She glanced around searchingly, half expecting not to find any sign of her quarry, but he was right there, sitting in the dark steps of her porch. His back rested against the rail, and his automail leg was bent so that he could wrap both hands about it. Ed didn't acknowledge her presence; but he didn't stand and walk away into further solitude either. As far as Winry was concerned, that was progress. "Hey there." She put a smile on her face and thought to start with a light comment, "Al could use our help. Sheska won't stop until he promises to become a librarian."

Ed finally craned his neck to look at her. "Al wants to be a librarian?"

No, he did not. But it was a running joke among them, given Al's zeal for knowledge and Sheska's enthusiasm. A running joke Ed obviously wouldn't get – yet? "No." Winry shook her head, a little angry with herself for reminding him how disconnected he was from their present lives. Especially Al's life. "But once Sheska mentioned he had potential and…." she strayed off, suddenly aware that his attention wasn't focused on her but on what she was carrying. "This?" She repositioned the tray, taking it by it handles, and bent to offer its contents to Ed. "It's just some fruit. So you can be sure you're safe from my cooking skills. Not even _I_ can ruin apples." It didn't get her the smile she expected; but Winry didn't give up. He was too pale, something she'd anticipated despite his protests that adapting himself to the automail couldn't be harder than the first time. "Oh. Just eat something, Ed."

"I'm not hungry."

"You never are," she retorted, unable to help the bitterness in her voice. Two years ago she'd have simply marched back into the house and slammed the door. Or thrown the apples onto his head and waited for the resulting storm. But now she grabbed her tray stubbornly and sat down two steps above him, setting the fruit in the space between them. "You know, maybe I should take Riza's offer."

Ed's eyebrow arched up.

"She offered to re-train you," she explained. "Says there's nothing a man can't learn that her dog hasn't."

That got her a snort. It even seemed a honestly amused one. "So Black Hayate did survive his training." He chuckled. "What am I saying? No one would dare leave Hawkeye without her authorisation." Without warning, the amusement faded and his voice darkened. "Not even for her own good."

Winry thought she had a good idea what he was remembering, but those were exactly the kind of memories they didn't need. "Personal experience?" she asked lightly, ignoring the darker nuances of his comment and palming the apples instead. She finally found what seemed the juiciest one and picked it up, showing it happily to Edward.

He shook his head. "Second hand, really," he answered as he eyed her actions, obviously waiting for her to put that apple back with the others. "I didn't understand it until much later, but in retrospective it was most curious how Mustang kept –" He cut the sentence and reached out to grab her wrist. The bit of skin she'd managed to peel before he stopped her fell onto her lap. "Winry," he said tiredly. "I'm okay. Really."

"_Edward._" He better remember that she never used his full name unless it was important. Apparently, he did. He freed her and didn't say another word as she returned to her task. Winry almost smiled to herself, helpless against the sudden surge of pride that, in the end, she still knew Ed better than anyone else – bar Alphonse. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Really, it was. Because Riza Hawkeye may know how military alchemists ticked, but Winry had grown up knowing Elric boys like the back of her hand. "They are all glad that you are back," she continued the conversation, putting the skin in a corner of the tray. "So nice, too, coming all the way to Risembool to say hi now that things have calmed down."

"To check on me, you mean."

She sliced the apple in half. "Sometimes you are impossible, Ed."

He looked away mulishly.

Winry let him, keeping silent as she cut smaller pieces and arranged them onto a small plate. Then she picked a second apple and started again. Whatever Ed needed to get out, he eventually would. Once, she'd have pressed him but the years had taught Winry to be patient. Not that patience had ever been her forte, having always been too busy immersing herself into Grandma's automail shop to learn of social graces. But if anyone had been busier than her, it was one Edward Elric.

Ed, Winry thought, had no clear idea of how patience worked. He'd always been the out-going one, the one who held nothing back. He may have needed to learn how to keep his thoughts to himself; but not with her. Never with her.

"I'm sorry."

In sheer surprise, she almost nicked her own fingertip with the knife. "What?" She stared at him, confused. "Sorry about what?"

He looked at her searchingly for a long moment, and finally sighed. "You really are okay?" he said slowly, as if he couldn't fully believe it. Meanwhile, Winry couldn't think of a reason _not_ to be okay. "I thought…." He turned his body around and caught her eyes with his. "With Mustang here…."

Ah.

Winry stopped her work and unconsciously mimicked his earlier position, leaning back against the rail and bending a leg at her knee. But instead of placing her hands around it, she tapped the knife's tip against her kneecap. "That is what's been bugging you?"

Ed shrugged.

She should have guessed. Ed's sombre mood had been slowly lifting since his return. The last couple of weeks, especially, Winry had been able to glimpse back to happier days where she and the brothers had few cares. Today's sudden shift in Ed's mood had been a surprise, but one easily explained away. He _had_ been gone for two years; it couldn't be easy to see all his old comrades again and witness the changes time had brought.

To herself, Winry had even been relieved that it wasn't as hard to watch as when he'd finally assimilated the news about Izumi. Ed had been withdrawn during the dinner conversation, and excused himself as soon as the last plate had been cleared. That'd been three hours ago, and until now, Winry would never have considered that he'd be upset in her behalf.

"You were gone for a long time," she began her explanation and placed her free hand on his shoulder to keep his attention on her. Since Hohenheim left all those years ago, Ed had been slow to trust; the search for the philosopher's stone, with all the lies and manipulations in its way, had only exacerbated that wariness. Right now, Winry needed to make sure that he knew she wasn't lying – neither for his sake nor Mustang's. "It'll never be easy. Every time I think of him, well…." Their eyes met. Orphans the both of them, Winry knew he understood all the 'what if's plaguing her life. "But I respect him now. I even learned to trust him."

"You did?" He hadn't sounded so sceptical when he found out about the automail she'd been carrying around in his absence.

She poked his shoulder. "Well, it helped that _you_ did." He smiled. Dimly, but it was still a smile. Winry picked back the half-finished apple and focused on it as she spoke, "He is a good man. And he was… what? our age?... when he went to Ishval. I don't know. I think…. I think that he needed to be that soldier, to follow all those horrible orders, so he could become the leader he is now."

Ed looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "When did you grow up, Winry?"

"Estimates would say, at the same time you did, silly." She laughed. "I'm not so mature, really. The clincher was that Mustang tried to protect you and Al through it all – _that_ really helped put things in perspective."

"Not mature, she says." He shook his head in amazement, raising his left hand to rest it over hers. "He does seem more at peace now."

Winry nodded. "We've all changed, Ed." Both of them looked at their joined hands, a soft smile mirroring in their faces. "Everything _is_ changing." Then, taking Ed by surprise, she snatched hers away and used it to present the plate of sliced apples to him. "Hungry now?" When he shook his head again, Winry frowned in displeasure. "Edward Elric, don't think I've forgotten how to apply a wrench to that stubborn head of yours."

Golden eyes widened slightly at the threat and then he shocked them both by throwing his head back and laughing freely. "I thought you'd changed?" he asked once the mirth subsided. More importantly, he took the fork and lifted two slices to his mouth.

Winry smiled and took a piece herself. "Not where it matters."

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**The End  
**12/04/08


	2. Bedridden EdWin

_**DISCLAIMER:** raises eyebrow  
**WORDCOUNT:** 1550  
**SUMMARY:** Just another day between Ed and Winry. Winry cares for him, and she understands him. But sometimes she can't help herself. eg  
**DEDICATION:** To Dana. Yeah, I know. Merry Christmas? g You asked for 'if you want to stretch, Winry telling Ed he's little...' I wanted to stretch. winks And, again, thank you so much for Love is a Battlefield!  
**FEEDBACK:** It's pretty. Isn't it pretty? hugs feedbackers_

_non-betaed_

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**BEDRIDDEN (..._right!)_**

_by Leni_

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"Should I bring it down for you?"

Ed whirled around, a dangerous look in his eyes, and only then did Winry realize her mistake.

It had been an innocent suggestion. A friend doing a friend a favour, nothing more. Not that Ed and his favourite complex would believe her. Winry sighed; today had begun as such a promising day.

Ed and Al had come almost at dawn to visit Aunt Pinako for a brief break. Or better said, for Ed to heal from the injuries caused in their last encounter with the Homunculus. All morning, Al had been fussing around his brother like an overgrown mother hen, so much that Aunt Pinako had finally taken an astoundingly strong hold of his metal hand and dragged the boy outside. She'd need his strength to fetch in some supplies from the train station, she'd claimed. Everybody (well, everybody sans Ed since he was still half sleeping and half unconscious) knew that the men in town would gladly help her grandmother, but Al was too polite to deny an older woman, so he'd thrown a last glance at a sleeping Ed and then trailed docilely after Aunt Pinako.

Maybe it'd been better that Al had been taken away, because Ed had slept the morning off and had woken up just half an hour ago. Upon opening his eyes, he'd looked a little lost, but Winry had been glad to see as he relaxed when he recognised her. She hadn't been too glad when he'd smoothly declared that he felt healthy, as if she hadn't seen his wounds and helped bandage some of them. But Ed had reiterated that he was well, thank you very much, and that he really didn't need such a prolonged rest.

Then he'd gotten louder, especially after Winry remarked that he should stay abed for another couple of days. Really, she should have learned not to tell _that_ to Ed and just wrench him as soon as he opened his eyes. That was the only way that boy would stay in his bed when he was told to.

But of course Ed had ignored her, stood up and raced downstairs to the main door. He didn't make it that far, and Winry could have told him that. She found him leaning heavily against a working table. Walking slowly towards him, she knew better than to offer her help. That was why she simply threaded her arm through his and half-led, half-supported him to the nearest couch.

"I'm glad you're feeling so well," she'd told him. Because in her experience it was better to go along with Ed's whims and turn them to her advantage. But she needed to be _very_ careful.

Ed had eyed her, a little distrustingly, not sure if she was making fun of him. Seconds later he'd nodded, having found no mockery in her expression.

"I need help with this project," Winry had continued, trying to sound just the slightest bit helpless; Elric boys were suckers for playing the hero. But Ed knew better than to think of her as a helpless damsel, and he'd looked more interested in leaving the house anyway. Winry had seen him about to shake his head, so she'd rushed on. "Nothing to do with automail or anything that complicate. But my room is a mess. You know how it is; one gets involved in work and thinks nothing of straightening things up. But now I need more space for a couple extra tools and…"

She was losing him; Winry had seen it in his rolled eyes, the slight interest he paid to the window - or whatever little was happening outside the window. He'd been completely uninterested in what _she_ was saying. If at least she'd been able to trust that he'd go back to rest if he was bored. But no; if she was lucky he'd just want to follow his brother to the station. Knowing Ed, though, most surely he'd push to train in her backyard, and he still shouldn't strain himself! Hadn't he just seen that he grew tired after the shortest run? "Help me sort out my pictures? Please?"

The unusual request had made him raise a curious look towards her. "Pictures?"

"Yes, you know. Photos of me, my parents, us, your---" She'd been about to say 'mother', but in the last second she decided against it. If he did help her and they found Mrs. Elric smiling up at them, she'd cross that bridge when they got to it. "your brother in those green-and-yellow boxers, when he was trying to be a frog." Both smiled at the memory. Al had been four, and she and Ed had convinced him that if he croaked enough, he'd be able to jump as high as he wanted. They'd probably been wicked children that day, but Winry wouldn't trade the memories of it. "Anyway, I have them in this _huge_ box. Aunt Pinako says that they'd look better in albums; she's right. Besides, it'll save me a lot of space."

"You want me to sort out pictures," he'd said, still looking puzzled, maybe a little amazed that his already legendary abilities had been requested for such an ordinary task. Well, he'd had a point. After chasing the Philosopher's Stone and fighting both alchemists and homunculus, it couldn't have sounded like much. But if it kept Ed out of trouble for a couple of hours, yes, Winry wanted him to sort out pictures. She'd nodded.

He'd shrugged, still more curious than truly willing to help, and they'd began the slow trek to her room, _very_ slow in deference to his wounds, though neither of them mentioned that part. Once they'd arrived, she'd promptly showed him the mentioned box. It was indeed a huge box, enormous and colossal were also fitting adjectives. Over the years Winry had gotten used to just place the pictures she took in there, no order and no tagging involved.

She had turned to smile at Ed, and had found a worried expression in his face. He was looking directly at the box, and his frown spoke of his main complaint about this favour. The box sat in a shelf. A _very_ high shelf.

Winry had just shrugged; she always kept a chair nearby just for these cases. "Should I bring it down for you?"

And then it began. She'd meant nothing by it, for God's sake. And yet Ed was glaring at her as if she'd just insulted him. Which, to his preciously fragile ego, was true. Winry sighed inwardly. Trust him to take it as a shot about his height.

Ed scowled, and Winry saw in his narrowed eyes that he was about to break out in one of his infamous rants. No matter what she said now, she knew she'd spend the next two minutes listening to an enraged Edward and the next fifteen calming him down. There simply was no avoiding it. A deliciously wicked idea came to her, and Winry suddenly felt like a six-years-old again. Her lips quirked in amusement. If it was a lose-lose situation, she might as well make the best for it. Right?

The grin widened.

Meanwhile Ed took a deep breath readying himself for a long outburst. It was almost funny to see how his face reddened in anger.

"Say no more," Winry delayed the tantrum. She was giggling as she stepped quickly to the corner of her room and retrieved the useful chair, which she put directly under the enormous box. Then she faced Ed, who was looking at her, obviously unsure about her next move. "There. If you don't want me to do it, you could use a bit of help, shortie. Now go for it yourself."

For the first time in months, Ed was left speechless as he stared from the chair to his friend and back again. Winry saw that he was trying to build up for a memorable tantrum, but shock at her behaviour stopped him. And then he noticed the twinkle in her eyes, the amusement she couldn't really hide, and his eyes narrowed in response. He kicked against the floor, and the show began.

Yep, big tantrum. _Big_.

Winry was still smiling at the end of it. If Ed thought he could intimidate her in any way, up in that shelf she had solid proof that it'd been the opposite one or two times in the past. "So," she said between muffled snickers, "We won't sort out our childhood albums today?"

Ed snorted loudly. His overcoat flared as angrily as he pivoted around and left the room. He stalked away, grumbling loudly all the way back to the living room. Winry grumbled to herself, too. Anger and hurt pride were the only thing keeping him from falling over and reopening the stitches. That boy was going to kill himself one of these days, but never on her watch! Alright, the time for niceties was over.

Winry set her jaw in determination and took a hammer on her way out of her room. It wasn't her favourite Elric-tested wrench, but if Ed continued to behave like a spoiled toddler and refuse to go to bed, this hammer would have to do.

With an positively evil glint in her eyes, she went after him.

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**The End**  
13/01/06

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**Feedback **would be good.


	3. Star Bright

**DISCLAIMER:** Nope.  
**SUMMARY:** _Star bright... star light... so many wishes wished and tonight one had become true._  
**WORDCOUNT:** 367  
**FEEDBACK:** Yes, please?

_Written for Sharon. **Prompt:** masks._

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**STAR BRIGHT  
**_by Leni_

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She leaned back onto his chest and studied the star-glittered sky.

Ed didn't make a sound and she was oddly grateful for it. This moment was for them. Only them. A stolen hour, snatched away from their real lives. Here, no dangers had ever existed or could dream to exist. Here, the world hadn't tilted off its axis seven years ago. Here, not even their beloved family mattered and it was just him and her. Edward and Winry.

She thought she liked the sound of that. For a second she felt tempted to glance backwards, smile at him, maybe even steal a kiss and let another be stolen back. But she didn't. Instead she continued counting stars.

Winry knew that, if she asked, Ed would know which stars formed constellations and what their names were. When they were little, they would play connect-the-dots at night. Horses, cats and trees for her. Alchemist symbols for him. But tonight she didn't feel like drawing on the sky. Let the stars be stars, she thinks. Pretty white candles that accompany them through the night without ever burning them. Star bright... star light... so many wishes wished and tonight one had become true.

She was still thinking about stars and warmth and too few nights like this, when suddenly his fingers moved to entwine with hers. Metal fingers, no cloth of his gloves in-between.

They'd gotten so far. She was the only one Ed would touch purposely with his automail limbs. Winry smiled, even though he couldn't see her, and made herself even more comfortable on her very favourite spot.

He was smiling, too. She knew that as surely as she knew every millimiter of the hand touching her. She could picture his face, and he was not the child she'd grown up with; he was not the boy atoning for a mistake he'd already paid too much for; he was not even the teasing brother he could be when Al was around.

When she closed her eyes, all masks dropped and she saw Edward as he was. Brave, scared, guilty and innocent and in love with her. Just as she was in love with him.

She squeezed his fingers and felt a soft kiss fall on her head.

...and still no words were needed.

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**The End**  
01/11/06


	4. Daydream Of Me, EdWin

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine  
**SUMMARY:** Ed&Win&Al + snowflake.  
**WORDCOUNT:** 191  
**FEEDBACK:** Pretty!

_Written for **evil_little_dog** at Christmas Drabbling_

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**DAYDREAM OF ME  
**_by Leni_

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Winry startled as something covered her head and brushed her back. She pushed up the light material, now realizing it was Ed's coat, and looked at him quizzically.

Edward laughed, pointed at the sky. "Don't tell me you _really_ didn't notice!"

Willow's eyebrows shot up as she saw the snow dance before her. "I…."

"We were starting to get worried," Al said from Ed's other side. He leaned over his brother so he could study Winry. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Just distracted."

"Distracted?" Edward snorted. "Daydreaming is more like it."

Winry turned with the intention to poke her tongue out at him; but in that precise instant a snowflake decided to fall softly on her lower lip. She licked it away absently and was about to tell Ed off when she noticed his expression.

Her eyes widened and she nervously tugged in the coat until the sleeves covered most of her blush.

Edward blushed likewise and stared straight ahead, looking about to hit himself for being so obvious.

Al looked up, smiled supposedly at the pretty sight of snow swirling in the sky, and pretended that nothing had happened.

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**The End**  
06/12/06

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**Comments **are loved!


	5. Big Dog, Royai

**DISCLAIMER:** See profile.  
**SUMMARY:** Maybe Roy is early. Or maybe Riza is late. But Black Hayate is definitely getting what he wants.  
**WORDCOUNT:** 1358  
**FEEDBACK:** Yes, please?

_Written for **cornerofmadness**, at the Christmas Requests._

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**BIG DOG  
**_by Leni_

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Roy frowned.

It wasn't like Riza to keep him waiting at her door. In fact, his second would most likely be waiting for him at her own door rather than make him lose his time in getting out of the car and coming up to knock.

He waited another five seconds, then reached for the knob. Roy chuckled to himself as the doorknob gave in easily and he found himself with an open door and Riza's apartment spread before him. "Hawkeye?" His second didn't come to greet him, so after short deliberation, he opened the door further, checked the soles of his boots for misplaced mud - he could picture Riza looking at him, then at her mud-streaked floor, then back at him but this time with a displeased scowl that usually spelled doom for military alchemists, especially those with ignition gloves.

Confident that his boots were clean, he stepped in, shrugged off his uniform overcoat and hung it from a nearby perch in the narrow entrance hallway. "Hawkeye?"

The loft was silent. Kitchen and living room empty as he glanced around. Frowning, Roy gave a measuring look at the one room he still hadn't checked. It had a white door which was slightly ajar, but enough so that even from his position in the middle of the living room, he could make out the wooden foot of a generously sized bed and the rich burgundy coverlet that hung halfway to the floor.

Funny, he'd always pictured Riza's inner sanctum in more standard colors. Beige. Browns. Maybe a touch of blue. He shook the thoughts out of his head; it wasn't as if he made an habit of wasting time thinking was colors matched his colleagues.

This was all her fault, for not waiting for him as she'd told him she would.

With a sigh, and hoping he wouldn't get something heavy (who knew what that woman kept in her house) aimed at his head for his audacity, he walked to the white door. And knocked. Not only because, contrary to popular opinion, he did occasionally engage in acts of courtesy; but mostly because, while he had no compunction to invade senior officers' bureaus, to barge into his second's private quarters would be foolish - and tantamount to suicide.

Nobody answered, but he was sure he heard a muffled sound in the room.

His body immediately tensed, and he put his left hand to the edge of the door, pushing slowly. Meanwhile, his right thumb grazed against his index finger, ready to create a flame at the first sign of trouble.

The room seemed empty, so he finally glanced at the bed - the knot in his throat betraying his hope that it were empty. Because if she was only asleep and she woke up to find him in her room…. He may be able to outrun her, but her marksmanship had no trouble with a moving prey.

Instead a black and white bundle barked happily at his sight, the sound distorted since the puppy had burrowed into the pillows, but his bottom was in the air and a tiny tail wagged happily in welcome.

Roy let out the breath he hadn't known he'd held to. Relaxing his hands, he reached for the puppy's head, giving it the expected pat. It ruffled in contentment. "Does Hawkeye know you are on her bed?" She did, he answered his own question. Either that or Black Hayate had the worst survival instincts in canine history. "Where's your mistress, pup?"

The puppy blinked large dark eyes at him. Then rolled onto his back, exposing his pink, well-fed belly and wriggling his body in a demand for attention.

"I don't do tummy rubs," Roy said. "Not to uncooperative dogs," he amended.

Black Hayate didn't take the hint. Just wriggled harder and his eyes stared up at him pleadingly.

Roy sighed and sat at the bed's edge. "I'm doing this under duress," he told the dog earnestly. "And I expect something in return," he added, unable to hide a smile as Black Hayate closed his eyes in a blissful expression and its tail tapped in a fast tattoo against the mattress. "We'll talk about the terms later, after I've found…." He trailed off, realizing that, cute as it was, Riza wouldn't give her pet such free reign during her absence. Which meant that she was home. Which meant…. "But where -?"

And that's when he finally recognized the background sound he'd registered for the last minute or so. Water against linoleum. A shower.

His hand froze on the pup's belly.

When he'd been looking for Riza in her living room, Roy hadn't given a second glance to the bathroom door. One, because no sound came out of it. And two, well…. He didn't really have a second reason. But why had the noise started only now? "Of course," he murmured to himself, "She must have been soap-" He clamped his mouth shut. No, the image of his subordinate soaping herself up hadn't crossed his mind. At all.

His head hung in defeat. What he could picture now, and quite vividly, was a very annoyed Riza Hawkeye aiming her favorite sniper rifle straight at him. Yes, that was a possibility; but even then he had to painstakingly replace the soapy suds with her uniform. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

An unhappy bark answered, but it was more a protest that the petting had stopped than any real answer.

He thought of his options for a moment, then straightened and decided for the obvious path of action.

Retreat.

Because Colonel Roy Mustang, the acclaimed Flame Alchemist, was not a coward. But neither was he a fool. Give him a stand-off against Ishval tribes; he was in his element there, ready to strategize how to get the upper hand. Against angry women, particularly _this_ woman, he had no such advantage.

When he stood to his feet, he noticed Black Hayate also raising to all fours. "No. Stay." One ear lifted curiously, and when Roy stepped towards the door, the puppy happily jumped to the floor, ready to follow. "_Stay_," Roy hissed.

Black Hayate gave a little bark and advanced.

"Alright, dog." He pointed at the bed. "Get back there."

The furry head tilted.

"Your mistress will use the big guns if she finds me here. Or if she suspects I was here, which will happen if you don't get back on that bed." At least the dog wasn't coming any closer. "Big. Guns. Do you understand that?"

Black Hayate yipped cheerfully and wagged his tail.

Roy sighed. "Figures." Considering Riza's version of housebreaking, her dog was probably more blasé about her temper than the Amestris military put together. "I guess this is time for negotiation. How do you feel about some good meat-flavored treats."

The dog blinked.

Remembering the bags of treats he'd spied in Riza's kitchen, Roy nodded. "Okay, you don't need that. What about an introduction to the finest lady dog in Central?"

A growl.

Did boy dogs also believe in cooties? He wondered inanely. "I'll come back and rub your belly?"

The white-tipped tail wagged harder.

Roy narrowed his eyes. If any pet would ever dare to blackmail a military alchemist, trust it to be Riza's. "Fine." He started his retreat. "Just make sure to keep your side of the deal," and to reinforce his words, short sparks buzzed from his hands.

"Sir?"

Roy closed his eyes. Then opened them widely. If these were to be the last seconds of his life, he hoped that Riza's towel was very, very skimpy. Slowly, he turned around. A disappointed - no, a _relieved_ sigh left him at the sight of his second dressed in her customary uniform. The only sign that she'd just come out of the shower was her still wet hair loose around her shoulders.

She was dressed. Therefore, he was safe.

Black Hayate trotted happily to his owner, not sparing him a second glance. "Sir." Her lips tightened in silent fury even as she picked up the puppy and scratched its ears. "Were you just threatening my dog?"

Too late, Roy thought to hide his hands behind his back.

He was _not_ safe.

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**The End**  
06/12/08

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	6. Watch The Walls Crumble, EdWin

**DISCLAIMER: **Hiromu Arakawa.  
**WORDCOUNT:** ~3300  
**RATING:** PG-13.  
**SUMMARY:** Future Fic. And I've happily skipped over any and everything that might be considered a spoiler. lol! _Listening to the pouring rain / Waiting for the world to change_  
**THANK YOu:** to Sharon, for the beta. *HUGS*  
**FEEDBACK:** Always welcome.

_Written for __**evil_little_dog**__ at __April (sorta) Drabbling__._

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**WATCH THE WALLS CRUMBLE (one by one)  
**_by Leni_

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It had been supposed to end.

She almost laughed at herself. But she had believed with all her heart, with all evidence at hand, with the brothers' own assurances supporting her hopes, that once Ed and Al came back, they would stay.

(How naïve.)

It had been supposed to end.

Instead, all she had gotten were six months.

"Hello, Miss Rockbell," a familiar voice said when she opened the door. He even tipped his hat at her, and the corners of her mouth started to lift before before she noticed the woman with her stoic expression, standing two steps behind the visitor.

She had slammed the door in his face. She'd sprinted through the house and then down the road to the village, raising the alarm. She'd overridden Ed's objections and _made_ him flee.

She had done nothing of the sort.

ooo

_The_ _first month had a blur of people coming and going, sheets and sheets of freshly baked cookies, and the most ridiculous inventions pouring out of townfolk's lips who wanted little from Rockbell Automail, and all of a glimpse of Alphonse Elric._

_"He's recovering," Ed had protested more than once, throwing an irate look at whatever 'client' happened to lose his way and end up in the living room, gawking at the younger brother with ill-disguised awe._

_"They saw a walking armor for too long, child," Granny would say, but nonetheless she'd stick her pipe in her mouth and rise to shoo the intruder away._

_"I don't mind, Brother," Alphonse sometimes whispered, too tired to embrace the infamous Elric temper._

_Ed set his brow and pulled his chair closer to the door._

ooo

"It's been a long time," she said as she allowed entrance to the pair. Careful not to meet their gazes, she showed them to their seats. "I believe it was for Elicia's birthday, wasn't it?" She didn't let them confirm or deny it. Words rushed out of her mouth and she encouraged them (how coward); a wall between her and the reality they'd dragged into her home. "Al was so glad he could make the trip to Central, even if Ed insisted we dragged as many pillows as possible with us."

She had played at bravery once.

"You'd think he'd be able to transmute them, but no." The man opened his mouth; she hurried into her next sentence. "He wanted to be certain we'd have them."

She had stared down powerful alchemists.

"But the trip was uneventful, and Elicia was so glad to see Ed…"

She had stood up to military chiefs.

"…even if she was a little afraid of Al at first. Kids."

She had faced war and destruction and promised herself that once it was over, she would never let herself forget.

"I think she's the only one of us who'll miss that big armor."

She hadn't forgotten.

"I've already asked Ed if there's something I can do with the metal. Anything. He-"

"Miss Rockbell." At such pointed interruption, she was forced to halt. "Is Edward at home?"

But it was not over.

ooo

_The second month,_ _Ed and Al had all but been at each other's throats. Al felt more sure of his own body, chaffed at the idea of spending more weeks sitting in the furthest couch from the window, with only a book as his daily adventure._

_"He isn't strong, yet," Ed murmured into his tea, his left hand worrying the tablecloth until she could see sweat stains smudging the white material._

_"He is better," she tried, giving a meaningful look at the door. "He left on his own, didn't he?"_

_"Stalked, more like," Ed snorted. "Brat."_

_She took the cup out of his hand, and he looked as it made a clinking sound against the table as if he had couldn't remember why he'd ever raised it. "What are you afraid of, Ed?"_

_"Nothing." His eyes strayed to the door through which his brother had left, a clear mark of his recovery. "Not anymore."_

_With a small smile, she rephrased the question, "This is Rezembool, Ed. You are home now, even with the gossip and the stares," she admitted. "You are safe and so is Al. You know that, don't you?"_

_Golden eyes blinked slowly._

_For a long second before Edward nodded, she knew that behind his eyelids raged years of blood and deceit, of battlefields that in their majority she'd seen only in their aftermath._

_She wondered in which one he'd forgotten what 'safe' meant._

ooo

She shook his head. "They're all in town. The boys are helping Granny to bring back the groceries."

They flinched when she said 'boys'. Good.

She'd heard the rumors, of course. New battles, new ambitions, new bloodshed. Ed had scoffed when he heard them, said loud and clear in the middle of the market that war was foolish, and even more foolish those who marched into it thinking they'd return unscathed.

"They won't be back for hours," she tried to dissuade them. (How hopeless.)

"We'll wait, then."

She shot a desperate glance at the woman sitting in front of her.

Riza Hawkeye, ever the Flame Alchemist's aide first, then a friend, held her gaze for a moment and then dropped it.

ooo

_The third month had been even louder._

_Al wanted their father to stay at the Rockbell house._

_Ed threatened to rent a room in town if the man so much as crossed the threshold._

_It took two weeks to reach a compromise, and it was she who brought the news to the bespectacled man waiting patiently at the Resembool inn._

_"Hm. I expected no result until spring, if then," he said, wearing a small smile._

_Granny, who'd accepted his invitation to lunch - and to share some of Alphonse and Edward's lives from before he'd reentered the picture, no doubt - shook her head. "You take too much credit for the boys, Hohenheim. For all their inherited stubbornness, they are Trisha's sons, too."_

_The man's golden eyes fixed on his diminutive friend. "That's why I came back."_

_When she recounted this part of the conversation to the brothers, Al's eyes filled with tears. "I believe…. I believe I understand why Mom loved him."_

_Ed let out a curse and stormed out of the room._

_Before she could get up and follow him, she heard Al mutter under his breath. "Brat." She laughed, whirled on her heel and stopped to land a kiss on the younger boy's brow before she hurried after his fuming brother._

_"Everything will work out," she said._

_And she'd believed it._

_ooo_

Ed's smile widened at the sight of her, even though the bags he carried reached up to his chin. But his eyes narrowed when he noticed the military uniforms waiting for him. "What's happening here?" he asked, forgetting all pretense of niceties. His eyes flitted over man and woman, and what he found there made him turn his gaze toward Winry.

His eyes, she met with all the honesty she could find within herself. (How poetic.)

He blanked his expression before facing the others again. Flinging his bags onto an empty cushion, he planted his feet on the floor, as if anchoring himself to the house. To the quiet. To the lazy afternoons spent carting fruits, meat and boxes of screws for Pinako.

To the last six months.

"What is it?" he asked again, meeting the bored gaze of the older man.

Gone were the black clothes, the gloves and the red coat that had branded him as surely as the pocket watch he'd carried.

But in that moment, it was the Fullmetal Alchemist who stood at her door and faced her worst nightmare.

ooo

_The fourth month, the cherry tree in the very limits of the Rockbell property bloomed._

_Ed kissed her under its shade._

_"I'm not sure that's how it's supposed to go," he laughed, passing his tongue over a spot where her teeth had nibbled too strongly._

_She almost punched his shoulder, but decided against it with an echoing laugh. There'd already been enough mixed signals to last them a lifetime._

_ooo_

Al stepped up in his brother's stead. Having placed his own bags on the table, he hurried to greet the visitors. "Brigadier Colonel Mustang," he said as he extended his hand. No martial salute. Not since Ed was granted his resignation. "Lieutenant Hawkeye," and he smiled at the tall blonde who's raised after Mustang.

"Alphonse," she replied with the smallest smile, accepting his hand in hers and looking puzzled for a second that hers wasn't engulfed in giant metal hands. "You've grown."

Mustang nodded at the boy, keeping black eyes trained on the older brother. "Edward. We must talk." Whatever he'd been looking for in Ed's expression, wasn't there. So Mustang looked for Granny and found her making her way around the brothers to get to the scene. "Doctor Rockbell. We are sorry to intrude -" He ignored the simultaneous snort and denial, respectively from Ed and Alphonse. "But it's urgent that I speak with Fullm- with Edward. In private."

"Like hell," Ed snarled, and thunder seemed to wake in the background.

"I'm staying," she heard herself say, and wasn't surprised that Al echoed her.

None of the adults paid them any attention. Granny looked between the officers' faces, tapping her fingers against the seat of a nearby chair as she considered her decision. Finally her shoulders lifted and she gave the Colonel a hard glare. "Come, children," she told them.

Before she could protest, Granny's hand had closed around her wrist; as much as she wanted to defy her grandmother's wish, she had no reason beyond a bad feeling. Alphonse was luckier, dodging Granny's hand and staring at his old friends with golden eyes that ever since he'd recovered his body, resembled his brother's more than ever before. "I _am_ staying," he ground out.

Hawkeye moved forward, to try and reason with the boy, probably. But Mustang waved a hand, "Let him." His expression was set; a man used to opposition and brokering it.

Ed's expression told of dozens of lessons learned under Mustang's orders. If anyone had a chance, well….

(How optimistic.)

"We'll bring back some tea for all," Granny said, and nobody outside their makeshift family could have guessed at the weariness laced in the words. "Let's go, my girl."

She went.

ooo

_The fifth month, wanderlust started creeping into Edward's eyes._

_She wondered whether it'd been that shadow, that small sigh when he walked to the porch and gazed into the horizon, the same symptoms Aunt Trisha had once seen in her husband._

_"Would you like to go to Central?" she asked, hooking her chin on his shoulder. "Elicia would be thrilled to see you again."_

_He shook his head, caressing her hair with fingers still unused to obeying his command. She didn't complain at the tugs and closed her eyes instead._

_Central wasn't far enough, exciting enough…. A week later, a walk to the village gave her an idea. Ed and Al had been in high spirits, celebrating the advent of spring in their own way. The loud way, she had thought as she saw them sprint and jump and attack and duck in unconcerted choreography, mindless of the spots of runny mud - a leftover from that night's rains - that landed on their clothes. It wasn't flawless, no. Nowhere near the sight of a near-invincible armor and a half-metal boy. But it was beautiful, and when their laughter reached her, she felt proud to have been part of the process._

_That last thought was the kernel for her next proposal to Ed._

_"I'm sure Mrs. Izumi would like to see Al's progress," she said one night as he lay along the sofa, his head pillowed on her lap. "She and her husband seemed very worried about him when they saw him at Central," she reminded him, rubbing his right shoulder with careful strokes. It still bothered him, especially when the weather grew moist._

_"Master?" he asked, coming back from the brink of sleep._

_She nodded. "She'd love to see you, too." She waited until he turned his eyes on her, and smiled at his wordless question. "I think we should go visit, yes. If your Dad comes while we're away, Granny can-" His scowl made her pause. "Or not. Just think about it, Ed."_

_"But your work…."_

_"Can hold for some weeks." A wonderful idea came to her. "Granny will stay here, anyway. It's not as if she hasn't done without me before. And in summer we can go to Rush Valley, see what Mr. Dominic is up to."_

_"I thought you wanted to stay in Rezembool," he mused. But she knew that he was already thinking of sparring with his old teacher, of having someone better capacitated tell him how to maneuver the limbs that had returned after so long. Of having a challenge after so long a quiet stay. "You don't have to…."_

_"I want to," she cut him off. "So you won't fit in Rezembool life, who cares?" She'd never pictured him as one of the other boys anyway, growing up to be husbands and fathers and shopkeepers or farmers. Even after he announced he'd leave the military, over her own tides of joy, she'd known that sooner or later something would reclaim him. "There's a world outside, and an automail mechanic is needed beyond a village," - Winry thought of what she'd seen outside - "maybe even the country…."_

_His eyes flashed at the idea, then dimmed. "Al loves it here."_

_She smiled, thinking of his younger brother occupying what had been her place for so many years. "Then we'll make sure to always come back."_

ooo

"Amestris' wars are no longer my problem, bastard," she heard Ed's hiss despite the wooden door separating the living room from the kitchen. Beside her, Granny set a teacup with extra force on the tray. She opened another drawer looking for spoons, a part of her mind sure that yesterday she'd known where to find them.

Most of her wanted to run, though, stop the charade and tear away from the madness.

She was grateful that she couldn't hear Mustang, wouldn't know his reasons to pull who'd once been their best alchemist back to their ranks. Major Elric; she mouthed the words, as she'd done many times in her girlhood after she received notice that Edward had passed his exam.

Then Ed spoke, screamed, again: "I'm not a child for you to lead at your whim."

"He loves you," her grandmother said, yanking out a middle drawer.

The spoons laughed at her.

"He hasn't unpacked yet." The fact caused her to giggle. She'd packed both their luggage in the room where Sig had showed her to, while his wife, Ed and Al kept conversing deep into the night of their arrival. "We'd thought the boys would take the bigger room, but…." He trailed, scratching his head as he tried to find some subtle way to point out the obvious. Feeling the beginning of a blush, she turned away and with a rushed 'thank you' and 'good night' entered the guestroom. "I left one of my shirts in his bag," she remembered now. "Think I have the time to recover it?"

(How pathetic.)

Granny stopped pouring the hot water. "Oh, my dear girl…."

"Don't dare bring that up." Ed's voice sounded so tired; it was a wonder it carried through. "I know perfectly well what my debts are."

And Edward Elric always paid his debts.

Thunder resonated through her.

Before she heard the spoons clatter and bounce dully at her feet, before Granny's call for her name reached her ears, before she could feel her heart breaking inside her….

She fled.

ooo

_The sixth month, she watched as Ed's confidence turned from a cloak wrapped tight around his shoulders to a knowledge deep-seated in his spirit._

_"You don't need me anymore," she let herself mourn one night, tracing a blue vein that ran down his right arm, trying to understand and control that steady flood of blood as she'd once done with the hydroelectric system of his automail._

_She'd spent the afternoon watching the unlikely trio train in the yard. Ed's movements still didn't flow with the same grace; but in the few weeks under Izumi's careful eye, it became obvious that if it had taken him a year to master a metal arm, the next season wouldn't turn without him accomplishing his goal._

_"Don't be an idiot," he said, some of his old irritation returning. "I've always needed you."_

_"Don't call me names," she spoke the retort she'd given since childhood._

_It had the same effect as then. "Don't do stuff that deserves them, then."_

_She buried her face against his chest, finding the coarser texture of his worst scars with her lips. "First thing tomorrow, I'll ask Sig for a wrench." Over his surprised laugh, she continued, a whisper against his skin, "Someone needs to bring you to heel, Edward."_

_"Yes." He reached up to cup her cheek, tilted her head up so they could look into each other's eyes. "I'm glad it's you."_

ooo

It was raining outside.

How had she missed it?

"Winry!"

She stood, letting the raindrop wash down her hair, run from her brow along her nose and leap into darkness. Only one stubborn trail burned its way on her cheeks. She rounded about, taking in the boy - the man - calling onto her.

"Come back before you catch a cold!" he yelled, raising a fist at her apparent foolishness.

She remembered a boy of five, raising a fist and yelling because she'd managed to outrun him on the way back from school.

She remembered a little girl in a purple dress with flowers, taunting him.

Winry blinked and the children disappeared again.

It took all she had not to call for them.

"Well?" Tapping the boards of the porch now.

She wanted to laugh, and the sound betrayed her, turned into a sob once it left her throat. She'd loved the child; she loved the boy; she would love the man he was becoming. Because otherwise she'd never be the girl - the woman - she was.

"Come for me," she whispered, dragging the back of her fists down her face, cleaning it from the stingy salty rain. "Damn it!" she screamed when he wouldn't read her thoughts.

At that, he did rush forward as if summoned by name. He didn't react as the raindrops hit his face, didn't once wrap his arms around himself to keep warm. "Winry," he said when he reached her, standing so close. His arms lifted in what seemed to be slow motion, and just as slowly did she enter their haven. "Winry," he called her name again, and again, and again, until Winry had heard all that word meant for him.

"I'm tired," she said.

He hugged her closer.

"Exhausted." (How… desperately in love.) "I've waited all my life."

"I'm sorry."

Winry shook her head. Guilt was something she'd leave for Mustang to use. She only wanted him to understand. "I still do. I'm waiting, Ed. I'm waiting -" _'Waiting for you.'_ She swallowed thickly, hoping he read her as well as he used to read his enemies. "- for the world to change."

His expression softened.

"Sometimes I'm really an idiot, Ed."

"No," he responded, a seldom heard ferocity in the one syllable.

She smiled, "Okay," and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and knowing that when she next opened them, the question that was beating at the rhythm of her heartbeat _'you're leaving again, aren't you?'_ would explode and… and what then?

As if she was in a dream, she felt him move and with not a word passed between them, she moved with him. Back step after back step until she couldn't feel the raindrops pattering the top of her head, until she felt rough bark against her sodden clothes.

If she looked down, she knew that she would find bruised cherry flowers around their feet.

Sanctuary.

_'you aren't?'_

At last, Edward had claimed sanctuary.

* * *

**The End**  
20/04/09

* * *

**Comments **are loved!


	7. Slow Learner, EdWin AR

_**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine.  
**WORDCOUNT:** ~2600  
**SUMMARY:** **Alternate Reality.** The clues had been there from the start.  
_

_Written for_ **evil_little_dog** at _Halloween Candy 2009_.

Unbetaed!

* * *

**SLOW LEARNER  
**_by Leni_

* * *

"Edward Elric, you moron." Blue eyes raged at him. "Go to hell!"

With that, Winry Rockbell tossed her screwdriver over his head and stormed out of her room.

o

o

o

_One decade ago_

Only his mother's voice could tear him from the happy cocoon of her healing touch.

"You know, Ed," Trisha tried to keep her voice even as she applied the ointment. "Just because you like Winry more than the other… kids at school, it doesn't mean that you have to jump into a fight every time someone teases her." She kissed the top of her scowling son's head. "I'm sure Pinako has taught that girl how to defend herself."

"I know," Edward admitted with a sulk. He rubbed a purple spot in his arm, and never told his mother that Kyle hadn't been the one to deliver that hit.

o

o

o

_One year ago_

"Damn it!" Edward roared as he caught up with Mustang. "Face it, bastard. We're losing."

The older man's face said that he already knew the truth. Sheer doggedness kept him from admitting it. "We only need -"

"We don't _have_ more time." Edward clutched his right shoulder, wishing he felt blood instead of the unknown of short-circuiting cables. "Would you have us dead trying to save Central, or alive to rescue the country?"

Mustang balled his fists, but still didn't give the retreat order.

"I'm not dying here. Not like this." He eyed the black-haired man, then the chaos amidst the flames that this battle had become. "I promised - I said - Fuck all, I _promised_." Having reached his limit, Edward let out a frustrated yell and pulled back his left arm - to have it caught in an unyielding grasp.

"I'm sure Winry would understand." Hawkeye's voice was soothing, a tone that was seldom heard unless she was sitting at a comrade's death bed.

They would all be dead if Mustang didn't call off the attack. "Whatever." The laughter that came out was a hurt sound. "She'll be better off if she doesn't have to worry about us."

o

o

o

_One month ago_

Edward wondered when Pinako Rockbell had started looking like an old woman. "I'm not sorry I didn't contact you." He hadn't been able to tell that to the granddaughter. He had expected guilt sneaking up on him when Winry set eyes on him, and the matter-of-factness of her gaze had disturbed him even more. "But I _am_ sorry at returning like this, for this reason."

"I know you need her," Pinako started, slanting a look at his shoulder.

"It's not about me," Edward told her, gold eyes bright with silent helplessness. "The last months have been the worst. There are so many others waiting for her…."

"I see."

Edward huffed a breath. He was still waiting for her to explain why she'd dragged him to the repair shop when he should be contacting Alphonse to pick them up from the Rockbell house.

The brass had complained at losing a restless guard when his brother's body was recovered - not to Edward's face, of course, but even Hawkeye's steel gaze couldn't quiet the whispers. Where others, Al included, had seen weakness, Mustang had seen a face unknown to the enemy. He'd waited two weeks for the boy to recover, and then had charged Al with the most public jobs. Reconnaissance, vital deliveries, and of course, transportation.

The alchemic battle that had followed that decision had been stopped by Al himself. Meeting Edward's irate eyes, the younger brother had announced that he'd do it, that in fact, he was happy to still be of use.

That one of his first assignments was to collect their old friend had caused mixed feelings in the brothers, but Alphonse had braved through them in the days beforehand. Edward had refused to think too much about it, and then found a rush of anxiety enveloping him as he knocked on the Rockbell front door.

"I can't tell her not to go," Pinako spoke up, bending over the table as she checked the contents of their biggest toolbox. A smile broke her stern features when she discovered an old picture hidden beneath the set of magnifying lenses. She showed it to the boy, no - the man before her. "Even as a little girl, she never considered not following you."

The picture was of two boys and a girl. Edward took a glance at their clothes and decided it'd been taken during some town festivity - he wouldn't have worn the tie otherwise.

"She came back with a torn dress that night," the older woman remembered. "Such a pretty one, too."

Edward tried to define the memory, even as the present pressed him to leave the past aside and _focus_. He was about to snap at his honorary grandmother, ask why she was wasting his time, but he caught sight of her expression and the annoyed words died in his throat. "I'll take better care of her this time, Gran," he promised, feeling in his gut that was the appropriate response.

"Of course you will. _You_ never considered not protecting her," Pinako laughed. "That's not the point, Edward."

"Then spill it!" he snarled, annoyed that his attempt to relieve the older woman had been brushed off.

"Winry isn't going out of love. Not this time."

Edward blinked. "What's that gotta do with anything?"

Pinako replaced the picture, added another taken much later. Two teenagers and a metal armor: Winry had one arm around Al, half supported on him as she stretched up to put bunny ears on his much taller head; meanwhile, arms crossed and a sullen dark face, Edward looked straight at the camera and made as if he didn't notice the others' antics. "Here is the truth, child," she chuckled at the way he bristled. "You won't last long on her loyalty only."

o

o

o

_One week ago_

The heavy rain made the night miserable. The silence between them made it worse.

"No," Alphonse said when he felt his brother's eyes fixed on him.

Edward pretended to have been looking out for possible enemy scouts. "Huh?"

"No, Ed," the youngster sighed, wishing he didn't have to explain such obvious things. "I am not in love with Winry. She is not in love with me. _We_ are not in love with each other." It wasn't his fault that, after several hours attending the injured, Winry sought out the brother who didn't broadcast mixed signals by the hour. Her temper was shorter than usual; being forced to work with little support and less supplies, she didn't have the time to sort through awkward feelings. Ed's bumbling courtship would have been endearing in a simpler world. Now it drove Winry up the wall, and not even their usual screaming matches were enough of a relief from the growing tension between them.

Not that his oblivious brother noticed.

"That's…." Edward's brow creased. "too bad?"

Al closed his eyes for a second. He almost missed being a giant armor - if Ed started sputtering in protest, smacking the stubborn man with his bare hands would be no fun at all. "It's a _good_ thing, Brother. For you."

At least this time Edward stayed quiet.

o

o

o

_One hour ago_

"What are you doing?"

Edward turned towards the taller man. With that ever-present smirk on his face, nobody would ever guess that the ex Colonel was laying down after another close call. If Hawkeye discovered that he'd sneaked out of bed again…. Ed grinned. "What are _you_ doing?"

The proud expression never faltered. "I'm still your superior, Fullmetal. Even in exile."

Edward's growl didn't make an impression. Shrugging his left shoulder, he pointed to his right arm. "Something isn't working right - must be all that hauling your unconscious carcass out of the frontline."

Mustang watched him for a long moment. "That shoulder has been bothering you since Bradley sliced through it, no matter what your little mechanic has tried." He grinned. "So you have other reasons to search for her at this time of the night - it's about time, Fullmetal."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Edward mumbled as he pressed his pace.

Mustang's amused rumble followed him down the hallway.

o

o

o

_One second ago_

Edward ducked, more instinct than true fear, and heard the screwdriver hit the wall and bounce onto her bed. "Winry?" The slam of the door answered him. "No." He jumped to his feet, muttering under his breath as the stalk he'd planned toward the narrow hallway was slowed to an undignified limp. "You are _not_ doing this, you heard me?"

A flicker of a blond ponytail waved goodbye as it turned the corner toward the public rooms.

Edward hurried his steps, damning the moment he'd thought that the midst of a repair session was good timing for his declaration. Damning even more the wording he'd used. He could envision Mustang snapping gloved fingers at him, "Telling the girl you knew she'd been after you for years. Have you no brains, Fullmetal?"

He cringed. He'd probably let the bastard fry him if it ever came to that. With his left hand, he pushed the door to the main room, then sighed when he remembered the many routes to be taken from this point. There were two more hallways leading out from the other side of the room, there was the corridor into the kitchen through the French doors in the corner, there was the small inside patio where Mei grew some medicinal herbs, and also…. Headquarters seemed a thousand times bigger when he didn't know which path to choose.

"Guys?" The last year had taught him when to relent and ask for help. Bad thing neither Hawkeye, Falman not Alphonse bothered to look up from their poker game. But Edward Elric had never been faulted as a coward. "Guys! I'm talking to you. Have you seen…."

Falman hooked his thumb in the direction of the front door.

Making an effort to keep his automail limbs from betraying him, Edward turned away from the trio. Then froze at the unmistakable sound of a cocked gun. He didn't need to look back. "I want to clear things up," he told Hawkeye.

"He does," Al piped up in support. "He's just being denser than usual about it."

The comment earned a few chuckles. Edward pretended to ignore them as he followed the trail of an upset friend. "You should check your room, Lieutenant," he threw over his shoulder, "I think your guest is not following instructions." The scrape of a chair against the floor made him grin as he opened the door.

To the gardens, then. Once upon a time, they had been the prize of generations of Armstrong women - even Olivia had paled at the sight of a few pitiful bushes trying to reclaim the grounds that military drills had appropiated. They all had thought it was a good thing that Alex Louis would be spared the sight of it.

The night was thankfully warm. Tonight he was in no mood to shrug off the bite of cold metal rubbing half his extremities. "Winry!" The wind sent a breeze against his face, as if mocking him. It smelled like wildflowers, though, and Edward remembered her commenting how much she loved that colorful patch further away, and her enthusiasm when even more colors had appeared after the last rains. There was no more structure to the flowerbeds, and she'd said.... She'd said they looked lovelier in the wild. "Of course," he mumbled, hoping the heavier automail wouldn't sink into the softened soil.

He cursed the sluggishness of his steps. Any other day he wouldn't have let her leave the room, would have explained what he meant before she started throwing her tools around. It was easy to trace her, a set of small prints that confirmed his suspicions. He tried to ignore the distance and depth of them, a sign that she'd been running away.

Away from the house.

Away from him.

His right arm was useless against the low branches in his way, so he half-heartedly lifted the left one to fend them off his face. It didn't take long to find her, and a part of him was shocked by that. He was too used to chasing after the impossible - was it any wonder he hadn't seen her until she started moving on?

Winry sat up at the noise he made, gaping in obvious surprise when she discovered him. She squinted a little, tilting her head to try to catch whoever had led him to this spot. When it was clear that he was alone, her eyes narrowed and she found her voice again. "You walked here? On your own?" She studied him, lingering on the open ports at leg and arm.

"Can you scream at me later?" Edward didn't wait for an answer. "What I said before. That didn't come out right," he said as he reached the edge of the small flower field. Tired at the effort of a couple hundred yards on failing automail, Edward gave up the tough act and leaned against the trunk closest to her. "I didn't mean to sound full of myself."

The snort she gave was one he would have copied had he practiced his words before reaching her. Even before he was known as the Fullmetal Alchemist, the youngest prodigy of the Amestrian military, Edward Elric had known his worth - and made sure everyone else shared in the knowledge.

"I mean…. I don't care about how you've been feeling - wait!" Twin blue flames stared at him, disbelief that he'd treat his oldest friend with such cruel coldness, sorrow at a wasted decade of feelings, or fury that he would dare that behavior on her - Edward wasn't close enough to read the look with any accuracy, but he hoped it was anger. He was familiar with Winry's anger.

Passing a weary hand across his forehead, he wished Alphonse were here so he could translate the tangle of feelings into sensible words. "I care about _you_, okay? I have for a long time, apparently."

Her eyes softened, and she stood up, a bunch of flowers still clutched in her hands. But she was the one woman as stubborn as he. "I know you care about me, Ed. Now wait there, I'll help you back to th---"

"I love you." Trying to be romantic had landed him in an hour of extra poking, an excruciating hike after her, and he was sure there was a bug trying to crawl down the hem of his shirt. "There. I said it."

"You love me."

She didn't give any reaction except that slow repetition of his statement, as if trying it on for size. But Edward had known her since they were in diapers; once upon a time, after a prank had been played, spotting an amused Rockbell girl from afar had been the difference between joined laughter and a world of pain.

He dared to smile, and a sweet sound filled the clearing.

Later he would convince himself that it had been the wind, whistling between the branches and playing with the dead leaves. But in that moment, it felt like a thousand little laughs in the air, a song hidden in the trees that had found its source in the woman standing among them.

"I love you, Winry." Edward was surprised at how easy it was to say it for a second time. Then he shuffled from one foot to the other, most of his weight supported by the trunk behind him, and shoved his left hand deep into his jacket pocket. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he confessed, and hating the way his cheeks were burning, he threw in the last of it, "It sucks being the last to know."

"Oh, Ed." This time, she did smile. "I'm sure some people in Xing still haven't found out."

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**The End**  
09/12/09

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**Feedback **would be amazing!


	8. Home, Sweet Home EdWin future

**DISCLAIMER:** Not my toys, but I love the game!  
**SUMMARY:** post Promised Day. No spoilers. The Elric brothers return to Resembool, but finding their way back home is more difficult than anyone expected.  
**WORDCOUNT:** ~3650  
**NOTES:** Prompts taken from **4purposes**.  
**FEEDBACK:** Please!

_Written for **ishte** at **fmagiftexchange**._

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**HOME, SWEET HOME  
**_by Leni_

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_**i. the sky is a hazy shade**_

This time it only took Winry half an hour to find him. Were she optimistic, she'd be given to think that Ed was trying to make it easier for her. But optimism had always been better reserved for occasions that didn't involve the Elric boys, and so Winry acknowledged that the heart of the matter was simply that in the last months she'd grown better at reading Ed.

She considered avoiding to make noise as she closed in on him; but Winry was so tired of walking on eggshells around him.

Since the afternoon that the brothers had arrived in Resembool, Edward had seemed to do his best to vex her. _Truly_ vex her, in that way where she couldn't scream at him and berate him before the whole town if necessary.

"Edward has grown up," Granny had mentioned as they made their way home back from the inn.

Winry had pursed her lips and thought back to his negative to come stay with them, even if only temporarily. "He's grown stupid," she'd muttered, wishing again that she'd thought to take her wrench to the meeting, and then wishing she believed that the tactic that had terrified the boy would work on the man that had come back. "Al didn't even try to convince him," she continued, exasperated at what she considered an even darker betrayal.

Because Edward Elric had never known what was good for him; but between his younger brother and herself, they'd managed to make Ed see reason for two decades. That Alphonse had sided with Ed, despite the brief flare in his golden eyes at the mention of a real home life, had told Winry more about Edward's state than she'd been ready to handle.

Now, almost a year later, Winry had gotten yet another call from a tired Al. This pattern had started the fourth day after their return. Hearing the pounding at the front door, Winry and her grandmother had rushed over from the automail shop and been surprised by Al's panicked expression.

"Is he here?" the young man had asked. At the women's headshake, Alphonse had stuck his head through the doorway as if he'd need proof that Ed wasn't in their living room before moving on. Then he slammed his fist against the wall and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he whispered.

Hearing Al curse was the equivalent of the most violent of his brother's tantrums.

"What's the problem?" Winry had asked, already picturing rogue alchemists and revengeful Homunculus.

Al wouldn't tell her, hastening a mumbled goodbye as he turned around and started walking away.

"What was that about?" Winry had wondered aloud when a friend of a lifetime, one she cared about like a brother, left without asking for help. Granny had silently opened the door further, just in time for Winry to sprint forward to catch up with Al.

They hadn't found Ed until late that evening, when they saw him at the brothers' usual table at the inn.

Ten months afterwards, Winry had learned his favorite haunts.

Ten months afterwards, Winry was growing tired of running after him.

"Is it worth it?" she asked as she approached Edward. She saw him shrug his shoulders, a careless movement that would have earned him a punch when they were teenagers. "You scare me, Ed. Every single time you decide to disappear, you scare me."

More silence.

"At least tell me you won't leave without telling us."

Edward sighed. "You have no idea why I come here, do you?"

Winry looked around. Today he'd chosen the Rosenbaum barn. This place had been old when they were kids, and now it was a ruin. Patches of the roof were missing, probably eaten by mice, and the barn doors they'd once used as fort gates had crumbled into rotten wood. "Not to make repairs," she answered. As far as Winry knew, when Ed came here, he lay down on the moist hay and stared up at the sky. "The place could use some, though."

Edward stared at his hands.

Winry took the chance to check his right arm. He had claimed not to need her services since he'd been in Resembool, and while Winry wanted to be happy at the sign that it was a sign of the peaceful life he led now, she _missed_ that closeness.

Especially since it was the only brand of closeness that Edward would have allowed.

"Are you okay?"

Ed chuckled. "You sound like Al."

He wouldn't say anything more. "Why do you come here?" she asked instead. Until now, Winry had thought that Ed had chosen the most unlikely spots to hide from a worried brother and a childhood friend.

But it would be like Ed to have many layers behind his behavior.

"This was our favorite place to play hide-and-seek."

Winry nodded. With the many stalls that had once housed horses or cows, and the smaller nooks for tools and feed, the Rosenbaum bard had been a hotspot for Resembool children under ten. "Al got stuck behind some crates once," she remembered.

Edward laughed. "Right. I'd forgotten." He turned toward her. "I forgot too many things, Winry. We spent whole weekends here, and I could barely find my way the first time."

There was nothing she could say to that.

So she laid next to him, watching a thin cloud fly across the opening in the roof. "Kyle used to bring cookies, and then he hid them so he didn't have to share." She pointed to a loft beside them. "It was Den who finally discovered the hiding place - it was your plan to bring her along to sniff out the cookies. Not one of your best plans, I'm afraid."

"Den ate the cookies." Ed smiled. "I miss the old girl."

"So do I." It was the perfect moment to tell Ed that she missed _him_, too. Winry kept quiet, though. If he didn't know already, then it was not worth telling him. "Then some of the older boys started bringing stuff and hiding it, and you'd bet on how long it'd take Den to find it."

"I did?" The sound that came out was supposed to be a laugh. "Sounds fun."

"Until I found out, I guess it was." She crinkled her eyebrows a little. "No wonder you were scared of me."

He did laugh at that. "Believe me. I wish I'd never come across scarier people."

"You're home now," Winry told him.

"That's what Al keeps saying," Ed muttered back. "Doesn't really feel like it. Something about the burned ground where home used to be."

Winry pressed her lips together. She had found him, they had talked - she had one more piece of the puzzle that used to be her best friend. "You're making it difficult to stay in love with you," she sighed. Her feelings were an open secret in Resembool, and she didn't regret voicing them when she saw his reaction.

His shoulders relaxed, his eyes closed and he didn't need to say it; Winry had always known that a relaxed Ed was a content Ed.

They stayed like that, side by side, for another hour, maybe two. "You'll find your way back, Ed," Winry said once she'd processed their conversation. When she turned to gauge his response, she saw that he was asleep. The sky was darker now, but Winry didn't care. For once she didn't feel like bugging Edward into starting their way back to town. Instead she looked at the sky, the occasional birds barely distinguishable from the gunmetal background. She kept her eyes fixed on another passing cloud, wishing she was still seven years old and her biggest problem was to discover why Den wasn't eating at home.

Maybe Edward was right. Maybe there _was_ no way back.

The edges of the cloud grew hazy and watery, but Winry didn't want to blink the tears away.

Maybe it was time she applied the best of her optimism where it belonged: back into the lives of the boys she'd always loved best.

xxx

**_ii. willow in a windstorm_**

"You have no right, Winry!"

Winry took hold of the narrowed eyes, the golden shade fanned to a dark yellow. She suppressed the urge to smile, didn't do anything but raise her eyebrow in that angle she'd copied from her grandmother, the one that put the fear of Rockbell women into stubborn Elric boys. "I'm your girlfriend and you love me, don't you?"

Edward's nostrils flared, but he didn't deny it. "Hell if I'm going!" he yelled as he stalked back to his room, leaving her and Alphonse in the hallway.

"Brother was angry," the younger man breathed, his whole demeanor wavering between pleasure and wariness.

"He was," Winry confirmed, knowing she sounded smug.

Anger was good.

She had known how to deal with Edward's anger since they were out of diapers.

The listless man that had returned to Resembool was a stranger to her, a stranger that had kidnapped her best friend's body and ruined his relationship with his family. Winry wanted that man out of her sight; she wanted Ed - old Ed, _her_ Ed - back.

The process had started since their evening at the Rosenbaum barn. Winry didn't let him make excuses, forced down his stubbornness and on more than one occasion, she'd practically dragged him up the road to her house. But her efforts were working: now he came over for dinner every couple days, he talked to Granny in the porch and even waved back when a neighbor passed by. He had asked her out four months ago, and though the phrasing would have cost him a bruise if she'd had her wrench at hand ("Whole town is talking, damn busybodies - might as well give them something to talk about."), Winry had said yes.

But outside his family circle, Edward remained the quiet, prickly man who'd stepped into the train station eighteen months ago.

If Winry needed to bring his more distinctive behavior patterns to the surface, then she would do just that. For too long, Edward had kept himself away from his old friends; but Winry knew him, and she knew that while he'd chase everyone out of his life without any remorse, he had always possessed a soft spot for the young ones. Suggesting to Gracia that she had her daughter invite Edward to Central for the girl's birthday had been Winry's latest strategy in this campaign.

Edward's reaction had been… explosive.

While everyone, from the inn owners to the very last guest, scurried downstairs to avoid the storm, Winry gave Alphonse a confident smile and started her way after his seething brother. Edward Elric'd worst moods didn't scare her; soon he'd remember why Winry had been the only one to stand her ground against him, and why his aggressive responses had never fazed her.

He would be going to Central.

He would reconnect with people who loved him.

Even if Winry had to carry him into the train wagon herself.

xxx

**_iii. a look like white heat_**

Winy hadn't expected to surprise him. Sneaking up to Edward had been difficult when they were children - now he tensed as soon as he sensed a presence that wasn't his brother.

"Winry!" Alphonse greeted her, looking so grateful that she felt sorry for having taken so long before starting her way down to town. "I'll…." Al looked between Edward and her, gave a little shake of his head and stepped toward the door. "I'm going downstairs for lunch."

Winry nodded as the younger man grabbed her shoulder for a second as he walked past her. The gesture could have been part of his greeting (nobody had missed how Alphonse had grown fond of touching people once he recovered his body), or a show of support.

It could have been a warning.

When seconds passed and Ed didn't acknowledge her, Winry guessed it was the latter. Holding back a long sigh, she entered the room uninvited, came to a stand on the other side of his bed, his open suitcase between them. She grabbed one of the shirts Edward had thrown in, and before he could protest, she started folding it with the obvious intent of depositing it back in the bag.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Winry almost laughed. Figures it would be now when Edward decided to apply some manners. Instead she shrugged, and picked up another item. Al's phone call an hour ago had been short and to the point: Ed was leaving, and he wouldn't even say where he was going. Winry had tried to be surprised, but the truth was that she had seen it coming for months already. Every day that they spent together, Winry tried not to read the signs, but as train ticket stubs accumulated on a corner of Ed's night table, Winry saw a familiar light growing in his golden eyes.

He wanted more. He wanted _everything_.

Their trips to Central weren't enough. Resembool was growing too small for him.

Again.

"At least you gave us some notice," she said after three more shirts and a pair of pants. "What if Al hadn't called me over?"

Edward chortled. "Al thinks you walk in water, Winry. He would call you if I sneezed too loudly; of course he'd call you now."

"True." She snapped a pair of shorts out of the tight corner into which they'd been shoved. "Why did you come back at all?"

Ed lifted his automail shoulder. "Al wanted to."

And he'd do anything for Alphonse. "Why leave now?"

Winry sensed that he was trying to meet her eyes. She kept her gaze to her work. Then he sighed, "Because _I_ don't fit."

It was true. Alphonse was still Alphonse, the years away from home had left him ravenous for the small comforts of the country and the people who'd seen him grown up. He maintained a steady correspondence with most of their old friends, but showed no desire to return over his steps across Amestris to see them.

Edward looked as if he didn't fit in the skin Resembool had designed for him.

Then again…. "You never did, Ed."

He chuckled. "Then you won't ask me to stay?"

Winry gave him a look. "You'd say no. I'd rather keep my strength to twist your arm over important stuff."

Edward's eyebrow snapped up at that. Winry could see him hesitating between the wisdom of asking what she meant, and the instincts that pressed him to stay far, far away from that statement. "Okay…."

"Ready!" she announced, placing down the last pair of socks and maneuvering to zip the lid close. "We're cutting it really close," she said as she checked the clock on the wall.

His blond eyebrows raised even higher. "No."

Winry smiled, hefting his suitcase and walking to the door. "Come on, Ed. I won't be carrying both bags all the way to the station."

"_No_," Edward repeated, rushing after her.

"It's so cute," she told him as she turned around to find him a hand span away. She ignored his heated look, the fisted hands at his sides, and focused on the things he wouldn't say. The world thought that Edward Elric gave in to emotion too easily; Winry knew he never chose the right ones. With her free hand, she pushed a strand of long hair behind his ear, then she tilted her head up to kiss his lips. "You actually think you have a choice."

xxx

**_iv. falling leaves are whispering_**

Autumn in Central had been depressing; the city was nothing but buildings with a few pitiful parks crammed between housing blocks. The dry rusty-colored leaves on the pavement had looked more like blood tears than the landmark of the season. "Not here," Winry had said, at the edge of tears herself, and Edward had nodded and brought her to Dublith.

Winry still thought it wasn't as beautiful as Resembool; but the southern town had its charms, and she knew better than to press Ed to go back before he'd burned out this bout of wanderlust. "I know it's short notice," she'd told Izumi over a cup of chamomile tea after Ed's old master had sent the men away, "but I - _we_ would appreciate if you could help us set everything up…."

Five days later, Sig offered to go to the station to pick up Granny and Alphonse, hopefully Gracia, Elicia and the Mustangs as well. Edward was banished to the yard, to work off his nerves against whatever invisible enemy he chose for that day.

Winry stood before the full-length mirror, staring at her reflection. "White is not my color," she admitted as she rearranged her necklace so it felt parallel to the neckline of her dress.

"Edward was always color-impaired," Izumi said. "The less said about his taste, the better."

Winry giggled. "I know. But it was for the better, you know, or we wouldn't be here."

Three months ago, she and the brothers had gone together to visit Gracia. Winry had been helping around in the kitchen when Elicia walked up to her and, with the largest grin she'd ever seen on the little girl, asked whether Edward-kun had gone to one knee as they did in the radio shows. Gracia was lucky that Winry hadn't lost her grip on the porcelain teapot she'd been drying… "Ed what?" When she'd pieced the story together, Winry hadn't known whether to laugh or to cry. Laugh, because Ed had gone all the way to Central almost every weekend, gathering up the courage to ask for Gracia's help to pick an engagement ring. Cry, because it'd been almost a month since Gracia and Edward had finally agreed on one, and he still hadn't bought up the subject.

And the look on his eyes had kept sending longing gazes further away from Resembool….

Two weeks later, Alphonse had made the call, and Winry had weighed the pros and cons for three minutes before she barged into her room to pack her things, and then ran all the way to the automail shop to ask her grandmother to buy her a ticket to Central (where else would he start this new trip?) while Winry talked some reason into Ed.

Now she was in Dublith, wearing white and wishing the anticipation didn't make her so nervous. "Any advice?" she asked the older woman.

Izumi shook her head. "I don't believe my method to handle Edward would fit you."

Winry laughed.

"Treat him well," Izumi said next, a hard edge in her look that Aunt Trisha wouldn't have worn for such a situation. Or maybe she would have. Watching over Ed tended to bring out the more predatory instincts in a woman.

"I plan to," Winry answered.

Izumi nodded. "I see you've packed your bags again. That means that you won't be staying in Dublith either?"

Winry shook her head.

"Where will you go?"

The white organza made her shoulders look thinner as she lifted them. Further south of Amestris, maybe, to parts of the country not even Edward had seen before. Maybe even beyond the borders, down to the Great Sea that most Amestrians had only seen in world maps. Winry looked down at her ring. Four sapphire stones cut in a tasteful shape, silver trapping them into the figure of a blooming flower. It matched her eyes, Ed had grumbled when he finally presented it to her, which should be good enough since Gracia had forbidden that he enhanced it. "Wherever winter won't be too harsh."

"And after that?" Izumi pressed.

Winry closed her eyes, picturing quiet afternoons in Resembool. "I don't know," she lied. It would be Edward's decision this time, and Winry had patience for the both of them. She turned around and gave Izumi a wide smile, "We're having a long honeymoon, anywhere but the places with too many memories. One of the best perks of marrying a handsomely remunerated hero, we don't need to worry about my job. Or his lack of one."

She needed to work on that speech. If Mrs. Curtis was giving her the look that said that she could see through the brave front, Winry had no chance to fool Granny, or even Alphonse. The last thing she needed on her wedding day, was her well-meaning family taking Edward apart and informing him of his bride's anxiety.

"He'll seek a home, Winry," Izumi said in a soothing tone. "Edward can't function without the hope of one."

Winry smiled. "I know." That was why, when he couldn't find one in Resembool, she'd stepped forward. Edward had needed an anchor, and Winry had provided it, had let him hold onto her when he couldn't grasp at anything else. "I know," she repeated in a lower voice, letting her thumb graze against the ring in her left hand.

Once, Winry had watched as her best friend burned all his bridges to the past. Not too long ago, she had stepped aside and convinced herself that Edward needed to flounder about before recovering his life. She had lived her life, watched him try to rebuild his, and she had told herself that they didn't need each other to be happy.

This time Winry knew better. It didn't matter how good her life was without him; Ed made it better, even when he wouldn't know what he was doing right if you asked.

And she made _his_ life better.

Today Winry would walk down the aisle of Dublith town council. Before friends and family, she would become Edward's wife and they would leave together the next morning. It didn't matter how long this journey would turn out to be; be it months or years, Winry knew from experience that the alternative, the not knowing where he was or what he was doing, was a thousand times worse.

Resembool could wait.

That quiet future could wait.

The present was for a new life for her and Edward. It was to give Ed time to realize that, whatever he did, wherever he went, he'd never have to leave home again.

The present was for them, and Winry was done wasting their time

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**The End  
**06/01/10


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